One meetup from my magical garden will stay in my heart forever. It was Birth Stories Circle, organized with other doulas, because of big special polish event-but in my place many other nationalities met and it was so wonderful. There is a little memory from the amazing evening, translated from by polish blog, written immediately after the meetup. I want to share it with no-polish speakers as I believe it is really worth.
All the time I can not come to myself after yesterday's meeting of the Birth Stories Circle. I was not ready for such emotions. I was not ready for tears, hugging the women on that half an hour earlier did not even knew each other. Something quite shocking to me, but as cleansing. I need more such meetings. The presence of my husband and son discouraged me before the outbreak of crying so do not feel fully clean. MUCH still ahead of me.
It was unbelieveable experience for me, to see how many women bears the burden of severe mental sensations associated with childbirth- which should be a celebration of womanhood, too often its unimaginable humiliation.
I saw the tears of women who gave birth to healthy children, and may be with them. Someone will say:,, what is it? what can say those, who ....... ". I do not know what can they say. It would be nice if everyone could, had the opportunity to say what he feels and he was heard. Respected. Treated with sensitivity.
Since yesterday remain in shock. How painful it all, how much should change in the mode of our society and that it is so difficult that it seems pointless to start anything. I want to be a doula, I want more of these circles, I want every day to meet other women, to open up before them and cause, and that they can open up, I want more humanity in people because I believe that it means less tears. Since yesterday remain in shock. At the end we had to write on pieces of paper, which most of its history, we hate, what we would like to irrevocably destroy, and to throw cards into the fire. I wrote one sentence and let my son to cast into the fire. For me it was very symbolic. I didn'n feel strong enough to read aloud what I wrote. But now I have to admit to myself that I, the mother of my children, I let someone pick up these births from me. Having no knowledge or support, anyone who would show me my strength, I handed control of herself to others. Someone who does not care. Who was not even for me nice. I had never traumatized, I buried deep all I could feel, and skirted the burial place a wide berth. I want to dig out and deal with it. But not today, I'm not ready, not enough power in me. However, more and more.
My heart crumbled solidly when one of the women, full of emotions like reluctance, while some relief, hope, definitely threw into the flames the dozen of pages. We have really a lot to do as a species. Too far in all of this are, well, maybe not too far away, but very far away. Change of consciousness, however, hurt more than childbirth. But we have to start from something.
